


It is still your choice.

by di_lamerr



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, F/M, Rare Pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-04-12 07:48:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19127692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/di_lamerr/pseuds/di_lamerr
Summary: My take on A/B/O.Pansy is punished for her weakness by her father, it is as much protection, as it is punishment.Was supposed to be done in 3, but I got wordy.





	1. Chapter 1

It was Narcissa Malfoy who had told her what her father had decided, not her mother who she could hear wailing from the floor above.  
They had tried Aunt Cissa had said, but her father had decided, and had managed to pass it along to her cousin who was now the head of the family. Her cousin would abide by her father’s decision.  
But, Aunt Cissa had smiled kindly, they had found in studying the histories of both the Malfoy, and Black families that if more women were involved than men in the invocation, that the matches were more agreeable to those involved.  
She had held Pansy’s hands tightly in hers, and promised to bring every pure blood woman she could to help.  
And she had.  
Pansy had stood with forty seven wands pointed at her, nine men, thirty-eight women, her mother, Aunt Cissy, Cissy’s sister that terrifyingly looked like Aunt Bella, a pinched faced Augusta Longbottom, McGonagall, a teary Alistra Brown still caring for her mauled daughter, she was amazed at the women who had come out for her.  
For a girl, no woman, who had broadcast her fear in-front of the entire wizarding world, who had failed.  
They had raised their wands, chanting the spell as one, and she had felt their care, she had felt their deepest desire that she be the last that took this step by force, and not by choice. She felt loved.


	2. Chapter 2

Slytherins stick together, Harry had thought that this mentality ended with hexes, and jinxes in the Hogwarts corridors. He was wrong.  
He watches them for months coming into the Wizengamot, sitting silent, sometimes in the rare cases where a surety was required, putting up their gold, businesses, and shockingly homes for people that all they shared in common was their school house. Heads held high with a quiet dignity that was surprising to see on the defendant’s side in war crimes trials.  
It was coming to the end, Snape had been long pardoned. The Malfoys, well Lucius was in Azkaban, his wife, and Draco were free, of a sorts, and they had stayed away.  
Which was why it was so surprising to see them there.  
Malfoy gave Harry a nod, his mother a tight smile her hands clasping Andromeda’s tightly, who for her part smiled warmly at Harry. Snape gave him a simple flick of the head in greeting, and more came.   
Mostly purebloods, but halfbloods, and a rare Slytherin muggle born, also sat on the side of the room that denoted defense, and more came, until the room was filled, the aurors at the door forced to close them.  
Harry started to shuffle through his papers, looking, hunting, for the person who would bring out this many people, but none of the names looked well known enough. So he waited.

The first case was called, then the second, both were quickly decided. This far into the trials there wasn’t much to decide.  
The media box went silent, three large wizards were herding them out, and the aurors working said nothing.  
The third was what they were waiting for, the silence was the awed kind he remembered from watching a magic show on tv once.   
The intake of breath that pulled every man, and woman to attention.

 

And there stood Pansy Parkinson dressed in all blue, her usually cropped hair had grown, her hands had blue dots on them nearly the same color as the fabric of her robes.  
The Chief Warlock called the court to order, and Pansy waited.  
“Miss Parkinson.”  
“Yes Chief Warlock.”  
Harry was a little shocked at the tone of her voice, it was respectful, but more than that, it didn’t sound like the girl he had known. Her voice was, musical?  
He turned his attention back to the bench.  
“… and under such circumstances the law provides for the omega in question.”  
Pansy nodded, “I understand Chief Warlock, but the alpha my omega has chosen will not accept me...”  
She continued, but Harry was too busy looking around the room, omega, alpha? What the hell did that mean?  
“In fact it is questionable if they have even accepted their inheritance at this time.”  
Pansy took a deep breath and a sob slipped out.  
“Madam you can not expect me to stay within the same community as the alpha. That is cruel and unusual punishment, even for my crimes.”  
Madam Bones, Chief Warlock nodded. “Child” she sighed, “Child you are a gift, we have not had an omega born in the British isles in one hundred years. And now you tell me that you will accept no British Alpha.”  
Pansy bit the corner of her lip. “I could accept a British Alpha, if you, the court, are willing to accept responsibility for me never producing a child.”  
The room gasped, actually gasped. And Harry looked around in confusion.  
The Chief Warlock slammed the gavel down for silence.  
“You know I can not do that!”  
“Then let me leave! Let me see if I can create life out side this country Madam, take my family’s gold, take whatever you want, but give me my freedom!” Her voice broke, and Harry wanted to stand up and tell her it was okay.  
Instead he clutched his wand and remained seated.  
Madam Bones gave a deep sigh, and leant to the side speaking to the older gentleman next to her.  
“The court will seize the family holdings, but for the title to be held for your possible oldest child regardless of gender, your family seat, fifty thousand galleons, and a stipend each year according to the finances of the holdings. We can not leave you paupered in your condition.”  
She slammed her gavel.  
“We wish you well Omega Parkinson, may Merlin protect you, Morgan and Sebile guide you.”  
With that the aurors unlocked the doors, and every Slytherin stood as one. As Pansy walked towards the doors, people passed small bags along the rows, and the person at the end would press their hands brimming with bags towards her. She didn’t stop, or touch any of the bags, until she got to Draco, there she stopped; standing close they whispered to each other, and pressed kisses to cheeks, she allowed Narcissa to pull her into a teary hug, and shook Professor Snape’s hand with a reverence that Harry had never seen the girl display at any point in their shared educational life. She opened her palm to each, and each dropped a single galleon into her hand.   
She was greeted at the door by the same three large men who had cleared the media out, as well as two more, bodyguards Harry expected. They waited on her, and as soon as her foot stepped outside of the room surrounded her ushering her away.  
In the room women were crying, men had hard looks on their faces, there was something building, and it was bitter.  
Bones, no idiot, closed the court for the day.   
“We have lost one of our greatest gifts today, let us hope she will one day return to us ladies and gentlemen.”

 

Ron was sorta pink, but he listened carefully to Harry, then he flooed Percy.  
There was a long talk, with aggravated tones on both sides.  
When Ron finally flopped down into the carpet he sighed.  
“This is hard to explain, it’s not that you are muggle born, but you are.”  
Harry gave him a look and Ron kept talking.  
“So there’s these other genders that we used to have, well we still have them but it’s rare now.”  
Harry stopped him, “Wait what?” He found it hard to keep the laughter out of his voice.  
“Thousands of years ago, there were so few witches and wizards, someone decided to interbreed with other magical beings” and here Ron held his hands up “but they couldn’t leave well enough alone, they had to add more magic innit?”  
He continued.  
“Anyway things got all types of wonky with the werewolves. They acted like wolves some of the time, the males would be all super masculine, getting ruts, and knots, and the females would become highly attached to the most powerful male, and have heats! Then magic did what it always does, and it got really strange!”  
Harry stared at Ron. “How much more strange are we talking about?”  
“Being magically bonded with a bite, and men having babies strange.”  
“You are fucking with me!”  
Ron groaned, “I knew I should let my mother tell you about this shite! Look Malfoy’s like five times great grandmother was a man. Ask any wizard, we all know the story.”  
Harry nodded, and made the go on hand sign.  
Ron instead took a swig of his beer, and shook his head.  
“So anyway, they called the ones that could get pregnant omegas, and the ones with the knot, alphas. I mean there’s more, but you’d probably need to actually go find a book on it. All I know is there hasn’t been a documented omega here in ages. So half the stories could be wrong, but an omega is supposed to be able to smell their alpha, and the alpha them, and then they make babies; more omega, and alpha babies, and some betas.”  
“What’s a beta?”  
“Oh that’s you, and me, normal. We can’t get pregnant, and our cocks don’t leave us locked in trim for hours.”  
Harry nodded, and offered his bottle to knock against Ron’s “That’s wild.”  
Ron clinked their bottles, “Yup. That’s why reasonable wizards don’t undo Hogwarts’ magic. I’m telling you ask my mother, she knows ALL this stuff. It’s half doom and gloom, and half they fuck themselves silly happily ever after. Ask her next time you come for dinner.”

 

Harry didn’t ask Molly. Ginny graduated, they started seriously dating, talked about marriage, and decided that maybe they needed more time. They dated other people, and decided that maybe they were not happiest together. And work happened.  
Harry didn’t generally work werewolf cases, his superiors loathe to accept the responsibility for his life if he was bitten.  
But the Bureau des Aurors did not hold to coddling the Boy Who Lived, he was one of four British aurors in the country for training, therefore he would train, and work the same as any French wizard who worked for them.  
So there he stood.  
A witch had been kidnapped, someone murdered, the newly turned werewolf who had taken her barricading himself in his ancestral home. His howlish human cries of agony reverberated against the wards.  
The witch was silent, but spells showed she was alive, and questionably unharmed.  
The ward breaker, Olivier, was filthily efficient, he didn’t explain to Harry what he was doing, that was for later. A few times he would mumble at Harry to add a spell here, or there, to work that bit while he worked on something else. But mostly his silent wand work rapidly tore apart hundreds of years of blood wards, while he showed an especially in-depth knowledge of profanity each time his wand stilled.  
When the wards crumbled to dust, they were the last in.  
Wands low, ready but not necessary. Harry’s foot stilled at the threshold and he could feel ... something.   
Something was off, something told him to turn and run, that his presence was a desecration of the home where he stood.  
And it didn’t help that the house stank.  
He forced the fear? Trepidation? Whatever it was down, and wished for a scarf he could tuck his nose in.  
As his free foot moved over the threshold the werewolf screamed. There was shouting, and Harry was pretty sure cursing, and still the sounds, guttural and plaintive echoed.  
A head poked around a doorway.  
“Get him out! Stupid Alpha”  
Olivier gripped Harry pulling him back, and Harry gave him a confused look.  
“What the hell!”  
Olivier laughed.

There was a lull outside, almost everyone was inside. Olivier offered Harry a cigarette which Harry refused with a shake of his head.  
“Look I’m just saying, inside? That must have been a mistake, I’d know if I was a whatever.”  
Olivier laughed, speaking in rapid french that Harry’s translation charm had no trouble keeping up with.  
“An alpha, Harry, and no, no you wouldn’t. You are muggle as they come, and the goblins hate you.”  
Harry shook his head at the heat of his face.  
“I don’t understand what that has to do with anything?”  
Olivier took a deep drag, and blew out, the smoke curled into runes.  
“Being an alpha is something you are born with, but it’s locked away until puberty. Only wizarding schools delay the maturation, had to. Alphas and omegas fuck, and breed like rabbits! Better to stop it, let their families force the presentation when they are older, legal to marry, no bastards to worry about. But the English stopped totally after Grindelwald, they say he was an alpha.”  
A howl from inside was cut short by the crack of apparation.   
“Anyway, your family is...” He made a sweeping movement with his hands, “you had no one to do it for you. And I’m told only a handful of English pure bloods do it still.”   
“Olivier I think I’d atleast know something?”  
Olivier shook his head, “No you wouldn’t, you don’t know what to look for. My grandmother was veela, and I can’t tell. It’s just we check, the bureau that is. Bloodlines, blood, forcing presentation, we mix too freely on this side not to. Your kind would know, that’s why Moureau’s beast wanted to devour you, he could tell even if we could not.”

Harry would have argued, but Pansy Parkinson was escorted out of the house wrapped in the black silk of French auror robes, her feet bare, shivering, blood dotted the hem of the marigold dress under the robes. Her hair was much longer from the last time he’d seen her, her face beautifully gaunt from what he could see through the curtain of it.  
Something about her twisted his insides.  
“You know her?” Olivier’s voice cut his staring short.  
“We went to school together.”  
Olivier nodded.   
Pansy’s nose flared, and from 50 yards away he could tell she had smelt something, her eyes raised, and immediately met his.   
The feeling in his gut would not release, as their long moment continued.  
Olivier cleared his throat, “Auror Potter, I think it’s time we figure out what secrets are hidden in your bloodline.”  
The man’s hand came down heavy on his shoulder, and before Harry could speak he was apparated away.

Later he would be thankful he had been sent to ward breaking, but when their feet set down in the foyer of the Bureau, Harry wasn’t sure that this wasn’t some monumental mistake.  
He’d already been special, killed the big bad as Dudley liked to remind him.  
He’d already done every exceptional thing he was fated to do, and he was happy for that. He didn’t want to be unique.  
But he followed Olivier sullenly, while berating the man silently, and trying to convince himself that nothing would be found.  
The door to the room had a gleaming metal plate with a rune he’d never seen before, inside was an efficient office with witches and wizards in the navy of the French aurors, their black over robes all standing in a neat row.  
Olivier marched over to the nearest desk and gave the witch a charming smile, she smiled back, and it was obvious they had done this before.  
“Olivier! You’ve brought me Harry Potter, such a wonderful gift. I’ll take him!”   
She smiled at Harry, ignoring Olivier with mischievous eyes.   
Olivier snorted, “Harry Potter, Renee Breda, the most evil witch in this department.”  
Auror Breda’s belly laugh made Harry happy, her joy was infectious, and even more she reminded him of Hermione; she reached her hand out and stopped half way.   
“Oh!” The exclamation was half giggle.  
“Auror Potter, let’s not do that. We wouldn’t want to impact your results.”  
She stood a fluid movement Harry was used to seeing in Hit Wizards, ward specialist, and Unspeakables who worked with time. It was strange watching her as he followed, heels clicking along the marble, hips swaying with deadly efficiency. And her perfume reminding him of summer evenings eating apples in the orchard at the Burrow.  
She didn’t stop at the door, two quick raps and in they went. The goblin inside snarled and pointed to the center of the room, not looking up from piles of paper, while things around the room ticked, twirled, and flicked reminiscent of the Headmaster’s office.  
And when he did look up, if he recognized Harry, Harry couldn’t tell.   
Renee introduced them, Auror Potter, Auror Nogrot, specialist, and removed herself from the room quickly after directing Harry on where to stand, without explaining what specialty the goblin held.  
Harry stood still, Nogrot circled him, the goblin’s wand in his hand un-moving, finally unable to help himself, Harry cleared his throat, and spoke.  
“Excuse me, but what are you doing?”  
Nogrot’s head popped up frowning, his voice was throaty, and ruff, “If you are a muggle born this is a waste of time.”  
Harry shock his head, “My father was a pureblood, it’s just I don’t know anything about,” he took a deep breath, looking around the room, “any of this.”  
“Ah!”  
Harry waited, Nogrot continued his walk this time his wand moving.  
“Your aura is interesting.”  
“I’ve been told.”  
“Hmmm.”  
Another circle, “You understand the basics of muggle genetics? Chromosomal pairs.”  
The goblin was just getting started, Harry mentally winced; this had all the hallmarks of a swot, and he’d been friends with Hermione too long not to see a good wind up starting.  
“Errr… Sir? You best explain to me like I’m five.”  
The goblin growled in gobbledegook, it was guttural, fierce, impossible to translate, and it stripped Harry’s charms, wards, and protective spells in a show of powerful wandless magic.  
He rocked from the shock, that was supposed to be impossible.  
“Don’t move.”  
Nogrot’s English sounded as if he was speaking with a mouthful of rocks, but Harry stayed where he’d been placed, and kept his mouth shut.   
Any being capable of stripping the layers of magic two department had placed on him was not to be disobeyed, and several years with the aurors had taught him it was generally useless fighting higher ups.  
Nogrot kept speaking in gobbledegook, his wand in hand moved, and Harry felt himself start to drift, it was similar to when Hermione’s parents had given him gas, light headed, giggly, with just the slightest pressure between his eyes.  
The feeling continued to build, his chest felt like it was expanding, he felt suspiciously full, yet fuzzily happy. Like being high, but higher than anything he’d every accomplished with muggle weed, or magical rhapsody.  
He wanted to sing, his brain leap from song to song, which one would best vocalize this feeling. His nose felt more present on his face than he’d ever felt.  
His toes tingled in his boots, and he could sense his toe nails, he tried to find his finger nails, but his concentration broke when he felt his magic? Was that it?  
This amber golden feeling, it reminded him of Hermione, oh Hermione she would love this, oh so much learning, he smiled, his magic was like Hermione. He tugged at something in his magic, he didn’t know what it was but it was there like his nails, part of him.  
He tugged again, and his magic undulated, he wondered if being this happy was possible, was this real?  
He tugged again, and again the magic linked to every cell of his body moved as one. He couldn’t help it, he knew he had to do it one more time, and it would feel not just happy, but perfect.  
He mentally ran along the space that intrigued him, and this time he yanked with all his might, and the spot exploded; warmth enveloped him, it was the feeling he remembered from dying and seeing his parents, Sirus, and Dumbledore, love, he was being bathed in love.  
He slumped into a small, smiling ball.


	3. Chapter 3

When Harry awoke he noted two things; something smelt amazing, like pastries, fresh raspberries, lemon curd, and a room after sex, and his cock was so hard it was going to break off.  
He rolled to the side, and sneezed.  
“Merlin bless you.”  
That voice! His cock which was harder than he’d ever felt throbbed, and he couldn’t help the growl in his throat.  
“Save the alpha posturing Potter.”  
Harry turned towards the voice, as he’d though, Pansy Parkinson.

He looked to the side of where she stood, there was a large observation window, “Is this… is it the werewolf deck?”  
“It is.”  
“Am? Have I?” His voice faltered on the question.  
“Of course not.” The words were sharp, but her voice was breathy, and low.  
He looked at her, back pressed to the wall between the door, and observation window, gaunt face flush, arms wrapped around herself, eyes wild with something he had no word for, and glazed with not fear, maybe apprehension? He’d seen fear enough times to know the look in her eyes wasn’t it.  
He sat up, she reflectively raised her hand, “Don’t.”  
His cock throbbed again, something low in his gut yawned wide, his brain screamed ‘Yours!’.  
Against the wall she wrapped her arms tighter around her body, pushing her small breast higher giving him a better view of peeked nipples as she shivered.  
He felt compelled to go to her, no matter her response.  
“For fucks sake Potter fight it!”  
There was the taint of blood in the air.  
He looked at her nails digging into her biceps.   
“Stop.”  
She froze, mewling in her throat, and he couldn’t help the rumbled response.  
“Don’t hurt yourself.” He took a breath, “please.”

 

Pansy’s eyes were closed, and he could see she was taking small almost panting breaths.  
She raise her eyes from the floor to him, “That’s easy for you to say, you aren’t the one that wants to impale yourself on a near stranger’s cock.” she spat. “Why did you let them do this?”  
“Do what? I didn’t ask them to put you in the room with me Parkinson.”  
She laughed, it was shaky, and bitter.  
“Do you even understand what you are? Did you read a book? Talk to the Minister? The Weasley that Greyback bit? Draco’s Aunt? Do you understand any of this Potter? For fucks sake you made a lifetime decision based on what?”  
He should have thought out his response more, “I didn’t ask them to, I think Oliver had it done on the fact that some guy growled at me, and you could keep your eyes off of me.”

 

She slammed her head in to the wall behind her, and he was on his feet pulling her away before she could throw her head back again.  
“I said stop hurting yourself!” The words were growled in her face.  
She whimpered. He sniffed her,   
“Why do you smell so good?”  
She folded her lips, closed her eyes for a moment, then reopened them.  
“An omega’s scent should be most pleasing to her alpha, it helps to calm him.”  
“Did you always smell this good?”  
She shook her head, “Not while we were at school, this only happens after...”   
Her voice faded, silent, but she took a deep breath, and the arms in his hands relaxed infinitesimally.   
“Do I have a scent?”  
She nodded.  
“What do I smell like?”  
Her cheeks burnt red, “Qudditch leathers, amber, and treacle tart.”  
She buttoned her lips again.  
He smiled, “You smell.”  
She cut him off sharply, “Of sex, I know.”  
He nodded, “And raspberries, lemons, and flaky pastry crust. You smell like the best lemon raspberry tart, or cream cake I have ever smelled.”   
Her blushed reached her ears, “Oh.”

 

He growled. She shivered, and he could feel it with her in his arms.  
He dropped her arms stepping back, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what the growling is about.”  
“You are going into your first rut.”  
“Rut?”  
“Three days of fucking like you’ve lost your damn mind Potter.”  
“Oh.” He scrambled back towards the bed, “Is that why they put you in here?”  
She nodded.  
“I won’t do it, I won’t rape you.”  
She rolled her eyes, “Rape? Have you ever considered being well prepared for journey you are about to embark upon?”  
Harry gave her a look.

 

“Didn’t think so. Let’s be impolite shall we, and say I am a bitch in heat when it comes to you. My omega wants you, has from the first day she smelled you passing in the Ministry lobby.” Pansy slapped her mouth shut so fast there was an audible click of her teeth.  
There was a long uncomfortable silence as Harry thought.  
“I’m the reason you left London! You ran to France to get away from me! You could have...”  
She cut him off, tone sharp, “Because you were so well versed in wizarding culture,” He didn’t have to see it to know she’s given him an exasperated look, he could hear it.  
“What would you have said if Aunt Narcissa had come to you on my behalf? Hey Potter come ruin your life, and bond with the girl who said hand you over to the Dark Lord. All you need to do is go through this really strange pure blood ritual, or you could trust the goblins that tried to take all your gold for their half dead dragon.”  
By this time she was looking at him, and he could see her smirk.  
“But you left your home!”  
“Potter, I was an unclaimed omega, not destitute. Omegas are always wanted, we are fecund, the wizarding world is always covetous of children. Better yet I have friends.”  
“Do you?” He stopped eyes, dropping to her flat stomach, “Do you have children? The wizard that was murdered?”  
She frowned, eyes filling with tears, “Ourson is… was, he was my friend, he was kind, his heart was beautiful, but his preferences lay else where. We never even tried, we couldn’t. My omega could no more mate with him, than his alpha me. We were both mate-less and determined to live.”  
Tears tracked down her face, he searched for tissue ever present in rooms like this one, and stuffed a handful into her hands, afraid to touch her to dry her tears, because if he touched her he would never stop. And it was the lowest of the low to think about sex, as she cried over a dead man she loved.  
“I’m sorry Pansy. I know I don’t understand, but I’m sorry, no one should lose someone they care for.”  
His voice ended with a growl, he mumbled an apology.  
“Stop apologizing for Circe’s fucking sake! It’s not your fault.”  
She moved to the small table in the corner, that Harry had ignored.   
“Tea?”  
“Please.”

 

They sat sipping the silence uncomfortable, but welcome.  
“What happens now?”  
Pansy’s gazed into her cup, “We fuck Potter.”  
Her eyes raised from the cup, “You are straight aren’t you Potter?”  
He nodded.  
“And you have fucked before”  
God he needed her to stop saying fuck in that way.  
“I have.”  
“Good, it’s preferable that one of us has actual knowledge of how to.”  
He spat the words out without thinking, “You are a virgin? I thought you and Draco...” Harry felt uncomfortable for the question, and decided shutting up was best.  
“Never fucked. I though myself in love with him, of course, he is a beautiful man. But we have only ever had each other.”  
Harry looked at her quizzically, something about how she says those words makes his training stand at attention. And she stared back at him with soft eyes, and lips curled.  
“Your family according to the Prophet locked you under the stairs, you were lucky,”  
Harry opened his mouth to interject, but she raised her hand.  
“You were treated horribly, your life was hard, yet you walked into our world and they wrapped you in adoration...mostly. Draco and I, most of the people our world loves to call evil were quite aware from knee height that our punishments were to be melted out in full public view.”  
She sniffed, but no tear fell.  
“You suffered in silence in a muggle house, we suffered at crystal laden tables while the people we loved, who said they loved us, cursed us with unforgivables; and the threat of being turned out into a world that hated us in front of our friends, or worse cast into the muggle world with nothing.”  
She sipped her tea, “It is an exquisite method of keeping people well controlled.”  
Harry cupped his hand around the cup, ignoring his cock, and instead dwelling on the words she said, “I didn’t know.”  
“Why would you?” Pansy snorted, “It’s not the kind of thing we tell others, although we do thank you for incarcerating, and neutering so many of our father’s. Women are must less likely to replicate the same injustices they have lived.”  
The room remained silent for much too long, Harry thinking, Pansy staring at a sandwich she’d made into a neat pile.  
“You didn’t choose this?”  
“What? Having my family’s disposition for gagging for cock placed on display for the world?” She raised her eyebrow in the way that Slytherins seemed to have perfected. “No.”  
“I’m sorry.”  
“So am I, but I can’t help but feel more than a slight sense of schadenfreude that my father’s wishes to damper my sharp tongue, and harpy tenancies with a strong alpha would never have included you.”  
She smiled, “I may have defected from his plans with French sodomite, crushing his dreams, but you as father to his grandchildren?”  
She smiled a wistful look.   
Harry held his head in his hands.  
“I wished they had talked about this at school, I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t exactly know what this means besides...” He waved his other hand between them.  
“Dumbledore would have never allowed it, nor Dippet before him, nor Black, it’s too great a risk.”  
Harry pushed his cup away, “Why?”  
Pansy cocked her head to the side, and looked at him, the lights glinting off the gems at her ears, and he realized she wore no other jewelry.  
“Think about it? It’s almost always purebloods that face this, it scares muggle borns, it terrifies the muggle parent of half bloods, it’s one thing to marry and love a magical person, it’s another to realize that your lover’s bloodline could make your child effectively chattel as rare as we are.” 

Harry’s cock throbbed, and he watched Pansy squirm in her seat, fuck she smelled good!   
But he needed to talk to her, to know she wouldn’t hate him for wanting her, for whatever they were going to do.  
“So your dad punished you?”  
“He views it differently of course.”  
“But it’s a punishment?”  
“Punishment, blessing, all the same.”  
“You know that doesn’t make any sense?”  
Pansy threw her head back and laughed.  
“I wish I had wine, this would be so much easier drunk.”   
Her hand crept along the table inching towards his, and his her’s, how long had they been doing that?  
She sighed, hand still moving slowly as if drawn towards his.  
“It’s a blessing. I’ll never be poor, I’ll never go without, I’ll never be banished, my youthful indiscretion of saying give you to snake face is forgiven. It is punishment, because I was wild, and rude, and refused to learn my place. I didn’t want to be a mother, not yet, and now I yearn for children. I never wanted another man but Draco, but you owned me from the moment I caught your scent in passing.”  
Pansy met his eyes, “I am hobbled by my blood, and lifted by my blood.”  
“That’s depressing.”  
Their fingers brushed, and Harry vibrated, from his hair to his toes seemed electrified, inside that space he had been keenly aware of since waking roiled, as if given it’s freedom. He growled low in his throat.  
Pansy breathed out through her mouth, and he could see her peaked nipples.  
“In some ways yes. But I know that you will also know this feeling, this yearning.”  
Her little finger curled over his, he curled his around hers.  
“You will want me Potter, and you will burn with the intensity of your need, as I have. Your blood will betray you as mine has me. And we will be equally yoked in our need.”  
Harry wondered if that was a threat, or a promise.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We have smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't want to write a bonding, but I wanted them to have sex. Tadaaaa

Harry dearly wanted to squeeze his cock into some type of submission, the idea of sex with an audience was unappealing.   
He could smell that someone had entered the space outside. He looked at their entwined fingers.  
“I won’t have sex with you here. Not like this.”  
Pansy chuckled, “The general consensus is during heats we are shameless beast who care only about fucking.”  
His eyes didn’t leave their entwined fingers, “I don’t think it’s the sex I have a problem with, it’s half the department watching.  
He looked up towards the window.  
“I want to go home.”  
The door slid open silently, Auror Breda stood in the doorway. She did not try to enter, but her crisp apples and warm summer scent wafted into the room.  
Pansy’s lip curled.  
Breda looked at the parchment in her hand, “I’m sorry, You aren’t allowed to take international portkeys in your current state.”  
Harry nodded, that made sense.  
“That’s fine, I can go to my fla... pied de terre.”  
Breda shook her head, “The area is too populated, the risk of you triggering a succession of ruts is much too high.”  
“A what?”  
“Your triggering other alphas into rut, or omegas into heat with your scent.”  
Harry looked at Pansy, “Could I, we, do that?”  
She raised an eyebrow, “I’ve heard of it. I always believed them to be old wives tales, the powerful alpha who releases and suddenly every alpha, omega, werewolf, and veela in a one kilometer radius has lost their common sense.”  
She looked to Breda at the door, then to him.   
“But it’s you Potter.” She gave small huff of a laugh. “You surely could do it.”  
She looked at Breda again, the curl of her lip appeared then slipped away, the meat of her cheek sucked in, and he was sure she was biting the inside of it. Harry watched her pulse point.  
“I have a cottage in Merens-les-Vals.”  
Breda looked questioningly from the parchment to Pansy.  
“It is listed under Ourson Meunier, but it is mine.”as Pansy continued, “The only people that pass are muggle… err” she struggled to find the word she was looking for, “Hikers! And even they are rare.  
Breda nodded, “Is it warded.”  
“Of course.”  
“Would you object to us adding wards.”  
Pansy’s pulse point was near fluttering, her hand under Harry’s was starting to feel clammy.  
He wanted to close the door in Breda’s face for making Pansy uncomfortable, he wondered why this was stressing her out.  
Pansy gave Breda the coordinates, and Breda let the door close with a small up tick of her lips.  
Pansy wiggled her finger out from Harry’s to grab her wand before he could speak, the spell was silent, but a cool breeze scented with citrus, and berries flowed through the room cleansing it of the apples scent Breda had brought with her. Harry gave Pansy the moment she clearly needed.  
She took a deep breath, and he reached for her hand, closing his around hers still gripping the wand.   
“What’s wrong?”  
She closed her eyes, resting her head back.  
“You know Potter, I wish I could be as oblivious as you.”   
He stayed silent waiting. If he could wait out dark wizards, he could handle a witch, probably.  
“She,” Harry didn’t have to ask which she, “Is a unmated omega.”  
He gave Pansy what he hoped was a go on look.  
“It is the height of rudeness for them to send her here. It’s testing the bo… this thing my omega, and your alpha have, probably to see if they could draw you away, or if your alpha would try to dominate her, if your alpha is open to other omegas.”  
“All that from questions at the door?” The incredulity was clear in his question, even as Harry knew everything she said made sense. The apples and sunshine scent he’d just thought of as perfume, held a similar depth and musk to Pansy’s scent, but Pansy’s scent called to him, while Breda’s did not hold his interest.   
“Yes.”  
“And?”  
“And what?”   
“Let’s ignore that, you didn’t want to tell them about the cottage.”  
“Of course I didn’t, that’s the whole reason it was gifted to me.” Her voice lowered to just above a whisper “It’s where I go during my heats.” There was a long pause, “During the heat, I am vulnerable, it is....” She looked from the door to the observation window.  
Harry’s hand tightened around Pansy’s, Hermione had said it was possible, and while he had never tried it, something in him urged him on.  
It felt strange to cast, the words in his head, the magic channeled through another person, another wand, and damn it felt good! Her magic accepted him easily, with a warmth he associated with the Weasleys, and Hermione.  
The Muffliato settled around them, as she turned towards him.  
“What did you do! How did you know you could do that?”  
“Just a Muffliato.” He shrugged, “Hermione. She studied spell crafting, and she talked about channeling” He shrugged again.  
“Tell me! Tell me about the heats. No one can hear us now.”  
She did.

When the door slid open again there was a man, he smelt of nothing from where they sat, he too remained outside of the door. In his hands an envelope, and a small box.  
His French was beautiful, and as he spoke Harry realized his charms had not been replaced.  
He raised his hand to stop him. “I can’t understand a word you are saying.”  
The wizard gave him a direct look and flicked his eyes to the left at Pansy, whose eye brow had once again declared him a nincompoop.  
“He has your wand, and other documents, as well as a portkey to the cottage.”  
She turned towards the wizard expectantly, quickly translating for Harry, and replying in French when Harry sought explanations, or had questions.  
When that was done neither of them stood, the package floated from the door to the table. The door slid closed. They were free to leave.

 

The cottage.  
Pansy had been meager in her description. Harry was pretty sure that her “cottage” was three times the size of any of his friend’s flats, standing inside the massive living room with her pressed to him that wasn’t what he was thinking about.  
Her scent was every where here, the berries, and sweet citrus over powered by the musky scent he associated with rooms after sex, and now her, always her.  
She was in his arms, her nipples so hard he could feel them through their clothing. If she breathed too hard near him, he was certain he was going to come, he had never felt this way ever! Not even the first time he’d had sex.   
He was verging on losing control, he could hear himself growl, it wasn’t conscious decision. He sniffed Pansy’s hair, blushed, and continued sniffing, and she let him.   
Wide eyed she dropped her arms from around him, stepped back a half step only to raise a hand to his face palm down, giving him her scent.  
He licked her hand. She mewled.   
Her scent in the room intensified, and he huffed it like some type of animal.   
“Bedroom?” The word was growled.  
She took his hand, he followed.

 

The bedroom was pretty he supposed, he didn’t care. He closed the door behind him, and then pressed her to the wooden door.  
“Want you.”  
She offered her lips, he kissed her. It wasn’t gentle, he plundered her mouth, and she let him, until she pulled away panting.  
“Breathe. Breathe little omega.”  
He had no idea where the words came from.  
She raised her eyes to him.  
“Alpha.”  
The word ran lightning down his spine, and set off the tingles he thought only possible with near death euphoria.   
He took her lips again, and lifted her, planting his knee between her thighs as he settled her back down, her fingers tangled in his hair. The warm heat of her cunt against his knee.  
There were long moments before he realized that it wasn’t just the heat radiating from between her legs, she was soaking his pants; he mumbled into the kiss, and when she tried to pull away to hear what he’d said he deepened the kiss only to feel the wet spot grow.  
Pansy had given him the language for their present situation; it was her slick, slick happened when she went into heat, more plentiful that any arousal a woman had normally.   
This was rut, this driving need building in his belly to possess Pansy.   
He ripped his lips free and howled.  
Pansy barred her neck in response.  
Yes! His! His omega.  
He lifted her, wrapping her legs around his waist, and so so thankful for magic, when in the moment between lifting her, and her legs settling around him their clothes melted away.  
Her cunt brushed his head, leaving a trail of wet.   
“Please.”  
This was torture, her first time should be in a bed, with flowers and shit, Harry tried to think of a spell for flowers, but his head brushed her slick cunt again, and he was sure he felt her moisture roll down his cock, the thought fled.  
He slipped a hand from her waist over her bum, lifting her, he knew there would be no fumbling first time.  
She held around his shoulders tightly, angling her ass, giving him space, he positioned himself at her opening.  
No! He needed the bed, he wanted to see her speared open on his cock, he wanted, no needed to feel her under him.  
He bounced her up in his arms fighting the urge to lower her, and let gravity do the work, instead turning, striding to the bed.  
And Pansy understood what he wanted, when he laid them down, she unwrapped her legs from around him, spreading herself, grinding up against him.  
“Alpha please.”   
Harry pushed up and took himself in hand amazed that, yes he did feel girthier; promising silently next time there would be the requisite amount of foreplay that Hermione, and Ginny had sworn all women wanted, but he couldn’t wait.  
He stared at her pussy, he could see the slick, she was dripping. God!  
“For Merlin’s sake Potter, Alpha!” She touched herself, fingers brushing between her lips, “I’ve flown an Aethonan, there’s no hymen to hurt. Please.” She moaned, and Harry watched a bead of slick make its way out. “Please.”  
His. He ran a hand along her calf, and balanced himself so he could run his cock through the slick, Pansy’s breathing caught, as his head brushed her opening.  
“Pleaseeeeeeeee Alpha.”  
He breach her with one fluid thrust, she was wrong, there was a hymen. She moaned, and there was a sharp yip of pain. Harry took a deep breath, and closed his eyes counting to ten, his hand rubbing circles in the hip he had gripped while he thrust.  
Pansy was tight, so tight, and if he opened his eyes and looked at them joined, Harry was sure he would come.   
Pansy wiggled after a long moment, and his eyes fluttered open.  
She looked directly at him, “Fuck me my Alpha.”  
Harry growled, his balls tightened to his body, He lifted her leg, and she happily brought both up, her heels going one above the other, before leveraging him forward.   
His voice was rough, ‘Omega.”  
She tightened around him, and he could feel her slick more.  
He began to stroke, and speak, “My omega, my pretty virgin omega. You waited for me, your Alpha. You waited for my cock, didn’t you?”  
She nodded, and he smiled at her, “You are such a good omega, making a puddle in the bed for me, all this slick for me to knot you.”  
Pansy mewled at that.  
“You want me to knot you?”  
She nodded again.  
“No no.” He stopped moving, “Say it.”  
Pansy licked dry lips.  
“Please Alpha, knot me.”  
Harry started to move again, he could feel the knot building, the heaviness at the base of his cock, not in his usual balls. His next stoke there was resistance as he slid back, he shortened the stroke after.  
And Pansy tossed her head as she tried to get him to lengthen his stroke.  
“Please, close.”  
“I’m going to plug you with my cock omega.”  
“Alpha!”  
He lower himself to a pert nipple and sucked hard as he thrust, her cunt stretching around the start of his knot.  
Pansymoaned her completion, her pussy squeezing his cock, forcing his own orgasm to quickly follow hers, he saw stars as he knotted her, and could not help releasing her nipple to bite down on the flesh of her breast, they both screamed their pleasure.

 

They had settled on their sides facing each other, one of her legs wrapped around him, sharing the driest spot in the bed.  
Pansy’s nipples were still hard, Harry’s knot had not released, and every once in a while either of them would throb, or twitch.  
Pansy was absentmindedly tracing shapes in his back with her fingers.  
“I understand what everyone made such a big deal about it now.”  
He smiled, “No that’s way above what everyone made a big deal about. If most people had sex like that, we’d have a nation of nymphomaniacs.”  
Pansy giggled, her breast bounced and he fought apologizing again for the bite on her breast. She had told him, warned him really, that biting brought a permanence to what they were doing.   
She’d explained about the bonding gland, and he hadn’t bitten that, yet, but he had every intention of doing so.


	5. Finis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This isn't what I planned to write, but it's what came.  
> I'm ok with that, and there's slightly more smut.

Pansy smoothed her hands down her dress, Harry stared at her hands. He’d watched her charm the woad onto her skin that morning, the tiny rowan flowers symbolizing her status as an omega, the Celtic knot at the back of each hand that she was taken. That was for the Betas she’d explained, any Alpha would immediately know she was taken, her scent had changed to broadcast her status as bonded.  
And it had, he could smell his leather amber entwined in her scent, to him it brought a petrichor note to her overwhelming sweet sexy scent he quite liked; she on the other hand had christened it similar to the inside of a barbarian whorehouse. Even as he caught her sniffing her wrist from time to time.  
He nervously wiped his palms on his trousers, and looked back at Pansy once again smoothing her dress down in front of the mirror. They had another 40 minutes before the portkey would activate, at this rate they would both worry holes into their clothes well before then.  
“Come here.”  
“Not for all of Merlin’s luck Potter.”  
“Pansssss.”  
“No! Don’t Pans me, I know where this is going, and I’m not charming slick out of these robes. You keep your little alpha pheromones over there, and leave me be.”  
If the mountain will not come to Muhammad, then Muhammad must go to the mountain, he thought and stood, crossing the room to stand behind Pansy.  
“Potter.” She warned.  
“I’ve not done anything.” He smiled at her in the mirror.  
“Yet Potter, you’ve not done anything. yet.”  
Harry dropped his chin down to her shoulder, her bonding bite was so close, he could lean across…  
“Potter! Harry! We can’t.”  
Harry gave up and leaned across, licking her bonding site.  
She shivered,  
“We can.” His eye met hers. “We have time.”  
He licked again, “I could make you feel good. I won’t knot you, but sex is a great stress reliever.”  
She gave him a dry look, “Until I have to charm a full face of makeup back on.”  
“You don’t need makeup.”  
“Spoken like a man.”  
He ignored that, choosing to lick her mark, planting kisses that made her shiver.  
“I swear if that portkey activates and leaves us, I will hex you! And everything I know makes Weasley’s bat...”  
She stopped talking as he began to suck on the bonding site, he took his time licking, and sucking, she rocked back into his growing erection, and moaned.  
“Don’t be a tease Potter, fuck me.”  
Damn he loved her voice like this, rough with need, demanding, and yet subtly submissive in a way that made his alpha purr.  
He stood taking her hands in his and placing them on each side of the mirror, he hadn’t though about doing it this way before, it was perfect, access to her bonding site, and the ability to see her face. Why hadn’t he thought of this before?  
She was giving him a quizzical look in the mirror, he gave her a wicked one back before pushing her robes up.  
Thank Merlin for modern witches in traditional dress. Under her blue robes was a pretty sunshine yellow slip of silk trimmed in lace of the same color, instead of the traditional cotton shift, and under that a tinier slip of damp crotch silk panties, that he delighted slipped off and into his pocket after a deep inhale; because fuck its scent is distilled Pansy, he wonders if he can hermetically seal one and carry her scent with him everywhere. Break in case of emergency.  
Pansy watched him, and smiled. “Potter you libertine!”.  
He laughed at the tone of her voice, running his hands up her legs. She’d gained weight in the scant weeks they had secluded themselves at the cottage; it brought back memories of the knowing looks his Aunt’s friends would give at Vernon’s girth, chatter about happiness and relationships making you gain weight. He hoped it was true, he hoped she felt the same warmth when he entered the room, and urge to smile when he smiled.  
She moans as his hands cupped her mons; he doesn’t even try to stop his rumbled response.  
He slips into her easily, he can believe she’s made for him, so tight, so warm, so fucking perfect on his cock, and sets a leisurely pace, sex he’s learnt never takes as long as it seems.  
He suckles on her bonding bite, and she comes, her cunt spasming around him, his name on her lips, ‘Harry!”. He follows her.  
He may know nothing about being an Alpha, but he understands that somehow they are made for each other on a molecular level.  
His blood sings for her as she said it would, and it is not a punishment.  
He will take her home to his family, the Weasleys, and he will wrap her in the love that neither of them knew growing up, and one day they will have children, sneaky little slytherins with his mischievous streak, and their mother’s ability to say exactly the wrong thing.  
Harry smiles, and kisses Pansy’s neck.


	6. Just a bit more.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm really done now.  
> I had written a bit of this and decided not to go this path, but it was there. so I finished it (sorta) with the idea to tie it into something I'm working on. 
> 
> Plus I think this gives Pansy her redemption, more that the sex ever could. She would want a better world, a different one.

Epilogue

“No.”  
Harry looked from Pansy to Hermione, and decided that he had no place in the room.  
“I’m… beer! ...Be right back.”  
Pansy watched him leave, and contemplated sending a swift hex at his arse.  
“I’m just saying.”  
“Granger?”  
“Yes?”  
“Do you know what your problem is?”   
Hermione rolled her eyes.  
“You don’t know, what you don’t know.”  
“That makes absolutely no sense.”  
“Really? Tell me when a pure blood man gifts a woman in the prime of her fertile years, who has never been married, mind you, a winged horse; how does the meaning differ between a Granian and a Aethonan?”  
Hermione gave Pansy a blank look, “Why would I ever?”  
Pansy raised her hand, “The Minister, one of your paragons of the light Shacklbolt? Just gifted Luna Lovegood a winged horse Granger, let me tell you that has more meaning to purebloods, than anything you could have had printed on the front page of the Prophet.”  
Hermione stayed silent, waiting.  
“You read the book, and I’m sure Harry told you my opinions, but you don’t understand what I mean to them, and I won’t let you use me like a house elf to make a point.”  
Pansy clasped her hand on her flat stomach.  
“There have been two British omegas in six generations. Guillaume Malfoy, and me, no I did not choose it for myself, but I and others have made it abundantly clear that I should be the last to not freely make the choice. But I will not repudiate my culture over it.”  
“Pansy it’s dangerous!”  
“So are cars Granger, and aeroplanes, and muggle birth control. Yet muggles do those daily.”  
They sat at an impasse for a long moment.   
“It’s wrong Pansy.”  
“Yes. And it’s dying out, like British purebloods. And you my darling will make it popular again, girls and boys who never dreamed of making that choice will do so if you try to make laws. I am a warning to every pureblood father overly concerned with the blood purity of his bloodline.” Pansy laughed.  
“Harry would have settled with Ginny, and had two, three kids. Instead my father’s actions mean there will be many Potters in the years to come. A halfblood bonded to one of the last omegas. Purebloods see this as an even greater insult to their heritage. Something you don’t know, or understand.”  
Hermione stared at Pansy.  
“I want to make things better.”  
Pansy’s laugh was harsh.  
“Granger, Merlin couldn’t drag perfection from this hoard of useless bastards, and you think you can? In twenty years you’ll make an amazing Minister of Magic, but for now do yourself a favor, go out and live a bit.”  
Pansy’s hand over her tummy flexed, “Fuck a pureblood not the wishy washy Weasley type. Hop on Blaise he keeps drooling over your tits, and he can explain his mother’s proclivity for murdering her husbands and why she will never have to answer for it. Fucking talk to purebloods Granger, not at them.”  
Pansy met Hermione’s eyes, “A lot of people are depending on you getting this right Granger, you can’t barrel along making changes, that’s how we get dark lords.”   
Pansy’s eyes flicked to the door Harry had gone out, “You’ll soon have a god daughter or son.”  
Hermione squealed, and clapped her hand over her mouth at Pansy’s narrowed eyes.  
“We are depending on your side to bring us into the amazing future you types like to talk about, figure it out Granger.”


End file.
